


Death's Fool

by ANarrativeCloud



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: BAMF Harry, BAMF Tom, EWE, Epilogue? What epilogue?, Gen, Master of Death, MoD!Harry, Slytherin Keep, Time Travel, grey!Harry, writing in progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANarrativeCloud/pseuds/ANarrativeCloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He gently picked the baby up and nestled it softly underneath his touch, and as if sensing him and his magic, the baby’s blue eyes slowly opened as it stared curiously at the bright green eyes of his holder.<br/>“You’re a smart baby aren’t you?” Hadrian whispered. “You’ll grow to be great, <i>that</i> I can promise.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mrs. Cole had only just helped deliver the woman’s baby when she realized that the door to the room had opened, not loudly as if announcing their presence, but casually as if the person in question who opened the door belonged exactly where he was. There was an odd hum to the air surrounding the man, who was most definitely high class if his state of dress was anything to go by, yet there was some warmth that Mrs. Cole could feel from the man. There was nothing to suggest that the man had not belonged in the room, but Mrs. Cole _knew_ that he wasn’t supposed to be there yet the words were stuck in her throat as if she was pinned into the floor and unable to sit down despite the tiredness in her frame

“ _Merope._ ” The man whispered the name, as if tasting the name on his lips as he approached the woman on the bed and placed two fingers on her neck. The man paused for a while and closed his eyes.

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” The man mused, as his eyes sought the only other person in the room, the sheer intensity of the green eyes almost swallowing her whole.

Mrs. Cole could only nod.

“She had a child?” The enquiry was softly said.

This time she could speak if a little breathlessly. “Y-yes. She said his name was—“

“— _Tom Marvolo Riddle._ ” The man interrupted amusedly yet the hum in the air still hadn’t stopped. “Indeed. Where may I find him, matron?”

“T-the—” Mrs. Cole stopped herself. She may not be the kindest that the Orphanage had to offer and neither was she the bravest but children didn’t deserve to be picked up just like that. She gulped, readying herself to talk to this intimidating man. “May I ask what your name is, sir?”

The man chuckled, low and it made the air hum even more that Mrs. Cole’s knees almost buckled. What was wrong with her? “Hadrian Peverell. I’m the boy’s godfather of a sort.”

The name was _heavy,_ Mrs. Cole could feel the coldness of it yet… “Godfather? Can you provide any proof of that, Mr. Peverell?”

The man’s lips curved lightly and his eyes crinkled in thinly veiled mirth. (It had been quite a while since anybody had used the honorific ‘Mr.’ for him. It was most often _Lord_ or just plain Hadrian, though it was a very welcome change) “Do you truly need one? Isn’t that fact that I know exactly what he was christened as enough to persuade you, matron?”

“W-well—” Mrs. Cole was probably suicidal. She didn’t even knew what possessed her to demand anything from the man. “H-he’s with t-the other children. I-it’s the first room down the other hall.”

“Do I need to sign anything for me to formally adopt him? Merope, the poor dear, had left him with you, after all.” The man said slowly, as if gauging her reactions. “Though I doubt that he already has records with you. May I take care of that for you?”

“N-nothing. Not yet, at least. We planned on resting the night before filling out the forms. It has been a long day, after all.”

“Then please, leave the rest to me. Little Tom is family, after all.”

.

.

.

.

Hadrian strode slowly to the designated room, his mind wandering near and far. Had Tom truly spent his childhood in a place so gray and dull? No wonder he had wanted to be special. Especially with that intellect of his, he probably had nothing to occupy him and when he had found solace in the Dark Magic that he grew to be so well known to excel at, he had probably latched onto it. Even the Dursley’s wasn’t as bad as this.

The room that Cole had pointed out was small, enough for eight babies or four children and there were three children there, all of them varying in age. Yet Hadrian did not even have to look at the babies to know which one was Riddle. The baby, even so young, had a magic that sent shivers up his spine just feeling it. It was not the overwhelming power that he would grow up to have, but a pleasant brush of sunlight on a cold day. Inarguably, though, the magic was already leaning towards the dark and Hadrian could only smile at the possibility.

He gently picked the baby up and nestled it softly underneath his touch, and as if sensing him and his magic, the baby’s blue eyes slowly opened as it stared curiously at the bright green eyes of his holder.

“You’re a smart baby aren’t you?” Hadrian whispered. “You’ll grow to be great, _that_ I can promise.”

And with a soft whisper of the wind, he disappeared.

.

.

.

Hadrian knew that the Slytherin Keep had never been found as one of the last true bearer of the name had sealed it until a worthy heir could open the Keep. Hadrian though, knew exactly where it was, as Voldemort—who remained a fully different entity from Tom Riddle—had made it his base of operations during the war. With the last worthy heir in his arms, Hadrian could most certainly bypass all the security wards that had been set up for the Keep. A little blood from the child had grant granted them access past the main gates and Hadrian had his wand at the ready for possible hostiles.

The Slytherin Keep was grand and beautiful, pristine as if it had never been abandoned for years upon years of neglect from its owners. True to Slytherin heritage, the main color theme of the house was silver and green, with white accents and several different shades of green. The Manor itself was wide, spanning a little bit bigger than twice the longer side of a Quidditch pitch. Hadrian was not in any hurry and continued to rock the baby in his arms, humming a tune that would not exist yet, for several decades. The front gardens were colorful and something that Hadrian had never associated with Salazar Slytherin.

Double-doored, with the crest of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin embossed in the middle—Hadrian touched the door, his Magic intermingling with borrowed magic from the infant in his arms made the runes previously invisible on the doors glow, the script lighting up as the magic passed through the runes. Then with a might groan, the doors opened slowly, giving view to a large receiving room where there were two staircases lining the sides of the large room and a lightly glowing chandelier the hung right at the center of the ceiling. There was a huge painting of Salazar Slytherin at the farthest point of the room and he looked so serious, much unlike Hadrian when they had decided that he was to be the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter.

There were several loud cracks in the air and Hadrian could feel the arrival of the House-elves, much enthusiastic their lot were.

“Tizzy is welcoming Little Master back! The Slytherin Keep welcome real master home!” One of the House elves spoke with its eyes shining brightly. Hadrian wondered distantly what happened to these House-elves if Voldemort had only found it when the War was about to end. “Whos is you, Little Master’s holder?”

Hadrian gave the house-elf a smile as he crouched to its level. “I am Hadrian Ignotus Peverell. I am going to act as the little Slytherin’s retainer as he grows up. Would that be okay to you?”

The House-elf’s eyes were wide and shocked. No pureblood worth their salt would ever treat a house-elf this nicely, Hadrian knew, but he was far from conventional and he’d made friends with more than just house-elves.

“Master Peverell does not need Tizzy’s permission!” Tizzy replied finally. “Master Peverell can do what he likes!”

“Yet if you think I should not do something, please tell me.” Hadrian said with a smile. “I do not know of the protections that the Keep has installed and I would appreciate your help with familiarizing myself with the Keep.”

“Tizzy will do his best!”

“So who are the others?” Hadrian asked curiously as he eyed all three house-elves. Hadrian inwardly thought that they probably hadn’t needed this many house-elves if they were just few and his thoughts strayed to Hermione and her objections. Hadrian himself had never thought that house-elves needed to be free though Dobby was a rare case.

“I is Yuppi!” The shortest one said with eagerness.

“Sletchy!” The tallest one said.

“Do any of you sew?” Hadrian asks curiously. If he did not need to go to Diagon, he wouldn’t.

“Tizzy, Yuppi and Sletchy can only fix clothes. Not make them.” Tizzy said sadly.

Hadrian chuckled and patted their heads with his free hand. “Well, then. How about you fix up a room as a nursery for Tom?”

“Sletchy will!” Said the house-elf as it disappeared with a crack that had Hadrian wincing. He needed to teach the house-elves how to apparate soundlessly soon or Tom would be woken up too often too much if the kept happening.

“Then can you please fix up a dinner, Yuppi? I’m starving.” Hadrian said wryly as he followed Tizzy up the new nursery room.

.

.

.

Tom was a smart baby. He knew what to do to get Hadrian’s attention and had started to make his cries different when he was cold, hungry or wanted to poo. Tizzy, loved his new master to bits and often played with the young Slytherin heir. Hadrian knew that the baby’s name was important and needed to be something powerful but Tom already had a wonderful second name, and he could use it if he so wished. Hadrian often told Tom muggle fairy tales and he had full plans on teaching Tom about both the Mundane world and the Magical world then let him decide for himself what he wants. Truly, Hadrian hadn’t had any plans on leaving the Keep at least, until Tom would no longer cry when Hadrian went too far from him.

The child was going to be spoiled rotten if Hadrian didn’t get a hold of himself.

.

.

.

.

“Hadrian! I’ve already finished my book!” Three-year old Tom called, his tone all mature yet had the childishness that was inherent in a boy his age. He had started reading and understanding the books since he was two and a half and Hadrian was hard-pressed not to be impressed. He himself had never learned to read properly until he was at least seven.

“Impressive.” Hadrian complimented as he gave the boy a smile. “Can you tell me what it was about?”

Tom brightened and started to talk. “Well, _Potions: Theory and Practise for Beginners_ just really lists what method is good for what effect. Like a diced-insect type flobberworm would make a potion ‘fertile’ and ‘soft’ while crushing it or adding it whole would make the potion ‘stringy’ and ‘soppy’. Another example is the ears of a cabbit, when diced, it would add ‘firmness’ and a light component with grinding it would reduce the ‘flow’ of the potion. There are lots of examples in there and it was really interesting!”

Hadrian chuckled mildly. “How about your Charms?”

Tom’s nose scrunched up cutely and Hadrian resisted the urge to hug to boy to pieces. “I can still move things and change the color of things. The snakes in the corridor likes me a lot, so I never get lost and never have to use the Point Me.”

“That’s brilliant.” Hadrian praised him as he picked the boy up and Tom’s face reddened and hid himself behind his hands. “You are the best son I could have hoped for.”

.

.

.

.

The first time Hadrian had taken Tom out of the Keep, Tom had felt a trickle of anxiety as he’d never interacted with people who weren’t Hadrian or the House-elves. He was only four years old and while Hadrian assured him that while people expected him to have manners and compose himself as the proper pureblood heir he was supposed to be—though he wasn’t really pureblood but was the heir to one—there was something about meeting people that made him want to just go back to the Keep and stay with Hadrian and the elves.

“Tom?”

Said child blinked as he looked up at the kind green eyes that looked at him.

“I should have thought of this—I’m sorry Tom. I should’ve let you come out earlier… I think I’ve been a tad too protective.”

Tom smiled dryly—what four year old could pull that off?—“It’s bound to happen sometime. I think I’ve had enough practice with the elves though.”

“If you don’t like them or are getting on your nerves—” Hadrian started.

“—just smile at them and hope they swoon themselves to silence.” Tom finished. “I get it, I get it. Charming cute smile of a little four-year old and all that.”

They were going out to go to Gringotts and arrange whatever was left of the Slytherin Fortune if the Gaunts hadn’t managed to squander it all. It would also be good to know if Hadrian himself has a fortune that he had never touched but was content on opening a new vault if he hadn’t had any. It was also a good idea to socialize and have Tom practice his conversational skills with people other than Hadrian. It was also a prelude to the parties that they would no doubt be invited once the right people heard of Tom. It was also definitely a coincidence that Hadrian had picked a day where Hyperion Malfoy, father to Abraxas Malfoy and grandfather to Lucius Malfoy was going to Gringotts at the exact same time that he had decided to (he wasn’t fooling anyone who might have paid any attention).

“Remember your Gobbledygook lessons, Tom?”

| _Of course._ | Tom replied in the language.

| _Brilliant._ | Hadrian smiled.

“And I’m also supposed to do ’accidental’ Parseltongue while you go play with you friends.”

Hadrian blinked at the crude humor. “That might just be a good idea.”

“Of course! No one will believe us if there isn’t at least _some_ proof.” Tom said with a slightly raised nose. Hadrian would need train his more obvious tells out of him, but that was for another day. Tom would most probably be able to pick it out himself if he spent a day in front of a mirror anyway.

“Are you ready? Leaky Cauldron, okay? I’ll go first so that I can catch you if you stumble.”

“I _won’t_ stumble.” Tom huffed.

Hadrian went first after pronouncing the name clearly in a single try and Tom followed him not soon after. The flames flared green and ebbed before it faded.

“Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron!” was the cheerful greeting after the fading of the green. “Diagon Alley, right?”

Hadrian smiled and Tom stood beside him. Not too close but not too far. It was a calculated distance that wouldn’t have been so intimidating if Hadrian had put a leash on his magic, but that would defeat the whole purpose of the trip, so he didn’t. Not all wizards could feel the magic anyway, unless he made it obvious like he did at Wool’s with Mrs. Cole. They’d need to be at least _good_ before being able to tell if he was powerful or not. There was the problem of Grindelwald, but Hadrian was pretty sure that even without the help of the Hallows, he’d be able to beat the aging German wizard without really putting his all. Even if the man was in his prime. Besides, the war wasn’t even talk of the town yet, even if the more perceptive people could already feel it encroaching the horizon.

.

.

.

.

Tom Marvolo Riddle didn’t know what to make of his guardian.

Tom always knew that he had always been there and that he loved Tom to bits and Tom loved him too. A lot. More than he’d ever care to admit, really. He was already ten years old and Hadrian didn’t look like he’d aged a day and Tom knew that ten years does a lot to a person. Just _look_ at him! He was so tiny before and he could at least reach Hadrian’s shoulders now.

The past ten years of his life had been great and full of excitement everyday that Tom was almost dreading to go to Hogwarts. He’d been doing conscious wandless and wordless magic since he was Two and everything that he needed to learn had been drilled into his head. Hadrian hadn’t discriminated either. He’d taught Tom both Dark, Neutral and Light magicks, from Patronuses to the Cruciatus curse, from the cheering charm to the Nightmare Encapsulating curse and so on and so forth. He was even taught how to play piano with what little Hadrian knew and learned some other miscellaneous things while he was at it. Granted, he soaked up knowledge like a sponge so it wasn’t as if it was a chore and he always had something to do, Hadrian made sure of it.

Sure, there were days that Hadrian sat Tom on his lap as they just talked about anything and everything as Hadrian guided him to create his own principles by giving equal amounts of proof for both sides of every argument that Hadrian could think of. It was like an extensive ethics class where Tom was practiced in making decisions should they ever come up.

Tom inherited Hadrian’s distaste for human fear and irrationality, though. Hadrian spoke about the Mundanes finding them and exterminating them if they never stood their ground. Tom and Hadrian wasn’t above force when needed but never too much as that would spoil the game that they had designed to play.

He’d finish Hogwarts and create ties with the next generation that he was supposed to lead and pull up (even when he’s so far off the learning curve that it isn’t even funny anymore) while Hadrian works with the other purebloods on policy and making sure that the magical children everywhere would be treated with the respect that they deserve. There was also the brainwashing of the whole school population for them to realize that muggles were destroying the Wizarding culture with their mugglish ways. Maybe even start a class that taught all and every Muggleborn what they don’t know about the Wizarding world (It was Hadrian’s idea).

Tom knew that there was still going to be a lot of problems in the future but he already knows what he wants to do and how to get there that he was pretty sure that there was nothing stopping them now.

Well, that’s the future at least, now he had a Sorting to get to.

Not that there’s any question as to where he’s going, really.

“ _It better be… SLYTHERIN!_ ”

**-fin-**

**'A/N: Hello! I know I promised a new chapter on WITA, but I’m pretty sure that it was going to make a dark turn if I didn’t manage to get this out of my system first, so voila! Time traveler Harry raises Tom! Woohoo!**

**And don’t even hope. XD There’s not gonna be another chapter of this. XD**

**For those who wants to know I’ve decided that I’m pro-Slytherin so expect there to be more reckless Gryffs in the future. Ron _will_ get a redemption arc or something though, so don’t worry. XD I just like them with their cool and collected auras. They’re much nicer to write than shallow let’s save them all kind of thing (blame cywscross for her (his?) brilliant fics C’est La Vie and Dead Man Walking. Those kinda cemented my Slytherin loyalty. Three cheers for Regulus Arcturus Black. XD) Though I doubt I did Hadrian justice. I just can’t do that awesomeness that those others could do without more practice.  This one is more freewriting than something I planned for anyway so.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I lied.** **J I actually enjoyed writing this crap. Haha. Just don’t curse me out when you realize that this story is just building itself without prior plans or something. XD Expect plotholes. Lotsa them. And OOCness. And lots of weirdness.**

**‘Hyperion’ is Scorpius’ (y’know Draco’s son) middle name, so I kinda just stole that since in Harry Potter people name lots of people after lots of other dead people and it’s very likely that they actually have the same name. So. Haha. Well.**

**Stream of consciousness, this is. Confusing, it will be. Staying to read, will you be?**

**Enjoy!**

*****

Hyperion Malfoy, Lord to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy, had had problems with his wife for quite some time now. Alysandra Malfoy nee Avery had never been quite taken with him even when they were at Hogwarts. Hyperion’s parents though had most certainly been smitten with the woman even during the whole escapade where she had gone around flirting with every man in sight (which wasn’t as uncommon as people made it out to be). Hyperion had been the only one who resisted her advances and that made him a novelty to the flighty Avery and had been the subject of her attentions for longer than he would have been able to endure. This, thus made him a suitable candidate for the woman’s husband to be. However, when they had married and Hyperion still refused to do anything past what was needed for an heir, Alysandra began to rebel—in subtle, passive aggressive manners since it was still ill-befitting of a woman of her status to _outright_ rebel. It wasn’t much his problem that he wasn’t interested in anyone romantically or sexually—Hyperion never understood what others liked about it—he preferred completely platonic relationships to what others thought was necessary. Asexuality was a wonderful thing, in his opinion. You didn’t have the need to be with someone to feel complete and he’d much rather be alone than have some sort of romantic partner. Avery had just helped him with the whole ‘needing a wife’ problem and his mother had been delighted with the whole pureblood philosophy of blood purity and whatnot. Of course, there was some confusion during his teenage years that while everybody wanted to do _something_ he didn’t _want_ to, even if he had tried it twice but never again. Getting a divorce was the least of his problems due to having received a dowry and an heir out of the whole debacle. He much loved his son, Abraxas, even if he child was spoilt beyond normal comprehension.

Hyperion had scheduled a meeting with the goblins of Gringotts to discuss the matter of his divorce with his wife when he noticed a rather well dressed pair talking amiably, in Gobbledygook nonetheless, with a goblin behind the counter. If he didn’t know any better, he would have said that the goblin was pleased to have wizards paying them respect. But he did and knew that the goblin was more than just pleased. It stirred his curiosity and wanted to know what was it about the pair that made him turn his head in the first place when he realized that almost every eye in the room was trained to the older man. He’d had unruly but obviously styled black hair that fell in odd ways around his head, and turning a bit to the side, Hyperion could tell that the man’s eyes were _vividly green._ Like the killing curse that his father so loved to use on the pests that he caught scurrying around the house. The younger one—around his son’s age perhaps?—had the same aura, but more subdued and _darker dark dark_ and Hyperion was entranced. What in heaven’s name was _that_? Dark magic was hardly something uncommon and Hyperion could vouch for the fact that there are more Dark Wizards than Light Wizards now, if only because Light wizards were engrossed in their heroics than ambitious Dark Wizards who were more concerned with furthering their wealth than saving lives in exchange for theirs. The whole silent war was also a good contributor to that precarious balance and Hyperion Malfoy didn’t even want to be a part of such a ridiculous scheme. He might hate muggles as much as the next wizard in line, but even he could see that there would be problems if the muggles ceased to exist entirely. Muggles were the lowest class in the system and they provided food for most of the Wizarding populations scattered everywhere and he couldn’t really accept that if muggles were to be completely extinct, then those jobs would fall to the wizards, even if they would be Muggleborns or not. The house-elves could do that, but it that was the case, then house-elves should most probably start breeding like rabbits now. At least muggles weren’t as disgusting to look at and the too-short and too grey deformed creatures that were only let into houses because wizards were too lazy for their own good.

The man tilted and Hyperion strained his ears to listen to the conversation that was happening on the other end of the counter. He cast a silent _Amplificus_ to magnify his hearing. It wasn’t really a good spell because if someone managed to sneak up on you and speak just the slightest bit louder than a normal speaking voice, you eardrums might probably burst, but due to severe practice, malpractice and modifications, Hyperion could safely say that he could only focus on certain sounds once he activated the spell. Alysandra probably won’t arrive until after lunch so he had all the time on the world to observe the newly arrived—and seemingly powerful—wizards.

“ _Name? Vault key?_ ” The goblin demanded slightly less threateningly as per their usual accord, finally in normal English.

“ _Hadrian Peverell._ _I’d like to request a key for the Slytherin Vault please._ ” was the muted request.

And Hyperion’s world _shook._

Slytherin? Was he seriously asking to open Slytherin’s _vault_ when there had not been an heir for centuries now? Was he just one of those people who thought they might descend from the Founder? It would be very possible that this person was just trying for a chance to see if they were related but for some unfathomable reason, he knew that the man was neither just trying his luck nor unsurely claiming such a large thing. There were a dozen more thoughts running through his head but he knew that his expression was as stony at could be.

“ _Do you have a claim to it? A distant relation is not good enough to be qualified to open a vault if there was no will left to trace._ ” The goblin asked with a haughty tone. Hyperion had to agree with him.

“ _My ward here, Tom Marvolo Riddle is a direct descendant of the Slytherin line._ ” The older man said with a small smile, almost conspiratorial.

“ _I am willing to go through a blood test to prove my claims._ ” The child said eloquently and Hyperion wondered if Abraxas could be that calm and collected when questioned and under as much scrutiny as the child— _Tom,_ was it? It was such a _common_ name.

“ _It is expensive and while I have no doubt that if it is proven true, you would be able to pay for it, there is the chance that it is not._ ”

“ _Would this be a good time to say that we found the Slytherin Keep and have stayed in there for the last five years?_ ” The older man’s voice was severely amused. “ _The Keep has recognized my ward as its true heir and while I find this conversation quite amusing, we still have places to go and things to do._ ”

Hyperion could feel the goblin’s greed from where he was and he was at the other end of the room. That was such a surprise though. They’d found the Slytherin Keep? How did they _manage_ that? The secret of the location had been kept and thought to be lost! It was a wonder and Hyperion could feel the desire to see the Manor for himself. He’d approach them once they’ve concluded his business here.

“ _We have something from the Keep itself to prove our residence there and we are more than able to pay for the blood test with our own money on hand. We are hardly_ commoners _that couldn’t pay for such a small amount._ ”

The man handed the Goblin a crest, indubitably from the place that he had just mentioned and magic was rolling off of it in waves. Hyperion almost shuddered. _Such magic!_

As his concentration faded and the spell worn off, he felt a gaze on his back and sought the source with his own and was slightly rattled when his eyes met the other man’s. There was an unidentifiable feeling in it that made him want to bow down and _follow._ Not even his father could make him feel that and he’d had the advantage of so many years on him that it wasn’t even funny anymore yet this man, who looked even younger than him... Granted, his father had never had much of a presence from the start but this was something else. Even Dippet didn’t have an inch of command compared to this man (maybe he was slightly biased as Dark magic was much more intoxicating than the light magic to other Dark wizards.) Then suddenly the pressure was off and Hyperion could feel the hairs standing on the back of his neck.

The man said something and Hyperion just realized that the spell he cast had already completely worn off as he couldn’t even hear anything the man had said. Though it seemed as if he was addressing his ward (The _Slytherin_ heir—his mind whispered) and the boy nodded with a small smile as the boy moved towards him with a measured carelessness that made him want to run and flee for his life. Yet running from a child was the last thing he wanted to do. He pretended to not have seen the interaction and continued to wait serenely on one of the benches he was waiting for Alysandra in.

“Good day, Lord Malfoy.” The child greeted and held out a hand, his childish voice making him squirm. There was just something _off_ about the child that made him uneasy and it was unnerving how utterly _normal_ he was acting. But Hyperion was much better than that and he felt that not a single thought showed on his face. “My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

“Hyperion Scarabaeus Malfoy. A pleasure to meet you.” Hyperion tilted his head to regard the boy and nodded, grasping the too-small hand in his and felt a jolt of magic through his system that withdrew as fast as it had come. He was proud of himself that he didn’t recoil due to the magic, but it was _intoxicating._

Riddle looked slightly alarmed and Hyperion didn’t believe an inch of it. _That_ was a calculated show of power and damn him because Hyperion was _impressed._  “I apologize.” Riddle said as he quickly withdrew his hand. “Hadrian says that I still have too little control of my magic and it tends to escape my control sometimes.”

“Hadrian?” Hyperion prompted.

“Yes.” The boy smiled, gestured to the man he’d just left and Hyperion could almost smile back but settled for a quirked brow. “My guardian. He tends to be a bit protective.”

“I believe I understand why.” Hyperion replied musingly. “I have a son, myself.”

“May I meet him?” The child’s eyes glittered and Hyperion could only just suppress a flinch. _No! H_ yperion didn’t want Abraxas anywhere near this child! (Yet this was a good chance to up that smug bastard Proximus Black. That man just got on his _nerves.)_

“Maybe.” Hyperion allowed, not answering the question. “Though I doubt that you came all the way here to talk about nothing in particular.”

The child’s eyes darkened for a moment then returned to its childish one and nodded almost approvingly. “I see. Hadrian wishes for me to see the alley alone as he has a lot to do with the goblins and does not wish to make me wait.”

“And you wish for me to be your guide.” Hyperion concluded almost breathlessly. How did he get into situations like this? Why couldn’t it be some of his less than likeable cousins instead? “Why? I doubt that your protective guardian would leave you in the hands of another pureblood so soon after you are first introduced to society as a whole.”

“He wishes for me to tell you that if I so much as cut a finger,” Tom’s eyes became slightly amused. “There will be nothing left for you to claim or anything to claim it with, whichever way is more appealing to him at the time.”

Hyperion shuddered. This… wasn’t the best idea he’s ever had.

“I’m jesting.” Tom’s lips curved amusedly and Hyperion gave him a weak smile. “Hadrian merely wished to convey his greetings. Ah. He’s coming here now.”

Hyperion’s eyes flicked toward the other end of the room where Peverell was coming from and wanted this encounter to end already. Where was that nosy Alysandra when he needed her?

“I hope my ward hasn’t scared you half to death now.” Was the light question. Hyperion didn’t even think to let his guard down.

“Not at all. In fact, he was wonderful company.” Hyperion hurried to quell whatever irritation he might have roused.

“Oh, please.” Peverell laughed slightly. “Tom here is a little hellion. He’s just subtler at it than other children. I doubt he didn’t cause you trouble.”

“It’s quite alright. Are you finished with your business?” Hyperion inquired.

“The goblins scheduled the blood testing in a fortnight and we wish to do some shopping before heading home. Though they said that it was more protocol than anything else.”

Hyperion couldn’t help his curiosity. “Ah. The Keep?”

Peverell’s eyes flashed dangerously and Hyperion almost regretted asking but the man seemed to manage to calm himself.

“Indeed.” Peverell hummed and pulled out an invitation from the fold of his robes and handed it to the Malfoy Lord.

“This is..?” Hyperion prompted.

“An invitation to Yule Ball at the Slytherin Keep.” Tom chirped (Hyperion was struck with a sudden sense of wrongness) then continued proudly. “I may be only four but the manor has accepted me as Lord to the Keep. Hadrian left the planning to me.”

Hyperion’s breath caught. He must be _dreaming._ The Slytherin Keep was probably one of the most sought after destinations by the whole Wizarding World and he just got an _invitation_ to it. Wow. Just. _Oh dear._  

“It’s _respondez s’il vous plait_ and the last day of confirmation is a month before Yule. Please return your correspondences then.” Hadrian said with a wry smile.

“I’m… _honored._ ” Hyperion couldn’t help himself. “I will most certainly make it.”

“One invitation is for four, so please bring whomever you would like.” Hadrian commented with a smile.

“ _Dear!_ ” Hyperion almost winced as he heard the screeching voice of his wife, soon to be ex-wife, but couldn’t really ignore the slight relief that came with it.

“Yes, Alysandra?” Hyperion replied calmly.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me you had company.” Alysandra giggled. Hyperion repressed a wave of disgust. “Why don’t you introduce us?”

“Gentlemen, this is my wife,  Alysandra Selena Malfoy nee Avery. Alysandra, these are Tom Marvolo Riddle, direct descendant of the Slytherin line and his guardian, Hadrian Peverell.”

Alysandra’s eyes widened. “…Slytherin?”

“Indeed.” Hadrian interjected.

“That’s hardly possible.” Alysandra scoffed as she regained her bearings. “Please tell me you’re pulling my leg. With a name like that—”

Hadrian’s eyes flashed menacingly, his magic thrashing wildly against his skin. It made him wonder what it would be like when the man wasn’t restraining himself and decided that he didn’t want to know. It made the air feel thick and Hyperion could almost taste the sheer _power_ that the man exuded. Even Alysandra, a very average witch, could feel the heaviness of it. Hyperion felt grateful when Tom sighed, tugging at the man’s robe. If the man was just the _guardian,_ what more the kid if he grew into _his_ magic _?_ Hyperion knew about the Peverells and knew that they were a legendary lot but no direct descendant still lived save the Potters and Hadrian most certainly wasn’t _Light._ Or at least, completely Light, Hyperion amended.

“Pardon me, madam,” Tom started slightly apologetic but a slight snarl twisted his lips, “, but Hadrian gets a bit touchy when people insult my name. I implore you not to mention it again in his presence.” _Or in mine for that matter._

Alysandra huffed, but after that show of power, who wouldn’t feel cowed? Hyperion was certainly trying not to shake or let his knees collapse. Alysandra was less in tune with her magic and only felt little of it. Hyperion needed to leave. Now. Lest he make a scene of himself.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to take our leave.” Hyperion said mournfully. No one was fooled, but for the sake of politeness, they played along. “We have something to sort out with our accounts, right, dear?”

Alysandra smiled. “True.”

“I want to go to Flourish and Blotts first.” Tom told his guardian resolutely. “I’ve already done finished most of the ones at home.”

“Of course.” Hadrian said serenely. “I’s been nice meeting you, Lord and Lady Malfoy.”

“It was our pleasure.” Alysandra smiled.

And that was the end of _that_ particular meeting. They bid their goodbyes and the duo left with  bank without glancing back once.

“Are you…” Alysandra frowned as she struggled with the words. “Their magic was…”

“It’s none of business for now.” Hyperion finally spoke. “I do not sense any hostility from them but I think it be most wise not to anger them.”

=0=0=0=0=0=0=

“Was that satisfactory?” Tom asked quietly.

“More than.” Hadrian smiled slightly. “Shall we head to Knockturn Alley now?”

“I think we need to go to Flourish & Blotts first, just to keep up appearances.”

“I doubt you’d find anything you’d actually need there.”

“I’m actually craving for some fiction, so shall we?”

“Of course, _young master_.” Hadrian demurred.

“Hadrian!” Tom huffed, his ears slightly reddish. He’d never liked being addressed by Hadrian like that. “That was uncalled for.”

“But you’re so cute when you’re flustered!” Hadrian teased.

“ _Hadrian!_ ”

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End file.
